


Stuck Still, No Turning Back

by animeangelriku



Series: Like a Train on a Track [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Community: kbl-reversebang, Klaine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animeangelriku/pseuds/animeangelriku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When whatever is going on between them feels like it could develop into something more, Kurt and Blaine try going out on a date. Once their relationship has the chance to change, it seems that they were never meant to be "just friends."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck Still, No Turning Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caustically](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caustically/gifts).



> This is kind of a sequel to "Like a Train on a Track", so I would highly suggest reading that one first so that this one makes more sense. It can be read as a stand-alone, but some things won't be as clear. 
> 
> Lovely Lito (somebodyholdyoutooclose) helped me SO much once I started writing this. I'm sorry I couldn't give you all the scenes you wanted and that I had to cut that last one short! I still hope you will enjoy it! :D Also, Robert, if you're reading this, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

“How come you have Depeche Mode’s entire discography?” Kurt asked in disbelief as he looked at the collection of vinyl records and CDs on Blaine’s room, placed carefully on a bookshelf to display two or three artists per shelf. On the corner of the room was a turntable. “It’s kind of unfair, really. You do realize some of these came out before you were even conceived, don’t you?”

Blaine, who went to his closet to take out a cardboard box with more records, shuddered in disgust. “I didn’t need to think about my parents conceiving me, all right? But thank you for putting that image in my head. Gross.” He shuddered again and sat down on the floor with the box on his lap. “As for your question,” he went on, “my mom used to be a _huge_ fan of Depeche Mode. When she started dating my dad, he began to hunt these down to kind of impress her and win her over.”

“Romantic,” Kurt said. 

“My mom would put on some of the records when my brother and I were little. He grew out of it after a while, but I kept track of them and continued buying their albums.” 

Kurt went over to Blaine’s bed, right behind his friend, and sat down on the edge, leaning back on his palms. “Was that why you invited me over?” 

“Was _what_ why I invited you over?”

“To impress me with your extensive collection of 80’s music?”

Blaine looked back over his shoulder and found Kurt smiling.

“Maybe,” he said, mirroring the smile. “Is it working?”

The one on Kurt’s face turned into a grin. “Maybe.”

Blaine quickly looked away when he felt a blush spreading over his cheeks. He and Kurt had been flirting back and forth since the day they’d met, but sometimes he couldn’t help wondering, what if Kurt’s flirting wasn’t meant to be taken as mere teasing between friends? What if Kurt was sending him signals that Blaine was too dense to see?

He continued sorting through the records on the cardboard box. “How do you know about Depeche Mode?”

“Same as you, I guess,” Kurt said. “My dad had a couple of their records. Not all of them, but a few. When I was around eleven, I was helping him clean the garage and I found them. He let me listen to them on our old turntable before it stopped working. He’d probably think it’s cool that you have the entire discography.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he told Kurt, “but that’s not quite true.” 

Kurt frowned slightly. “You don’t have the entire discography?”

Blaine shook his head and let out a soft sigh. “I’m missing their last one, the one that came out on March.” 

Kurt stood up from the bed and went over to the shelf with the discography of Depeche Mode, along with Nirvana’s. “Oh, yeah,” he said, noticing the empty slot between the two artists. “What’s it called? _Delta_ something?”

“ _Delta Machine_ ,” Blaine said. 

“Why don’t you have that one?”

“I was going to get it for my birthday,” he replied. “But then my bike’s battery died, and I didn’t have enough saved to buy a new one. My dad gave me the rest of the money I needed, which included the money for the album, so.” 

Kurt let out a small, “Hm. Sorry about that.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Blaine said. “I mean, if I had to choose, I’d definitely pick the battery, you know? I’d rather listen to _Delta Machine_ on YouTube than listen to it on my dad’s car while he drives me to school.”

“That’s a good point,” Kurt said with a laugh. “Still, I’m sorry you didn’t get the album. When’s your birthday?”

“July 28th. Yours?” 

“May 27th.”

Blaine chuckled. “I don’t know why I thought you were younger than me.”

“You thought I was younger than you?”

“I don’t know why,” Blaine repeated, shrugging. He hadn’t stopped looking through the cardboard box, and Kurt walked over to Blaine to glance over his shoulder. 

“What the hell are you looking for?” Up on a closer look, he could see that the box contained at least fifty different records. If Blaine wanted to find one in specific, no wonder he was taking so long. 

“There’s one Depeche Mode record that isn’t on the shelf,” Blaine said, “and I wanna show it to you.”

Kurt looked back at the shelf and then returned his gaze to the cardboard box. “Which one?”

“You’ll see,” Blaine told him with a smug smirk, and Kurt playfully slapped him on the arm. “Aha!” Blaine exclaimed when he finally found the vinyl he’d been searching for. Before he pulled it out of the box, he turned his head to Kurt. “Close your eyes.”

His best friend raised a questioning eyebrow.

“It can’t be a surprise if you know which one it is!”

Exhaling in mock annoyance, Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed again and closed his eyes.

Blaine made sure that Kurt wasn’t peeking. Then he took the record in his hands, went over to the turntable in the corner of his room, and put the vinyl in. “Now, if you don’t know this song, I’m not gonna say anything, but I’m probably gonna judge you on the inside.”

Kurt laughed, but he didn’t open his eyes until the song started and he realized that Blaine hadn’t been looking for an album, but for one specific single. 

“Oh, my god,” he said. “Really? _Really,_ Blaine?” 

_When I’m with you baby  
I go out of my head…_

“That was what, their third single, maybe?” Kurt asked. He sounded incredulous, but there was a giant grin on his face that made Blaine grin, too. “Do you realize how old this song is?”

“Do you realize how catchy it still is anyway?” Blaine retorted. He began to move his shoulders to the beat of the song, and Kurt burst into laughter, falling back on the bed. Then he laughed even louder when Blaine started to sing.

_“We slip and slide as we fall in love, and I just can’t seem to get enough of…”_

“You’re ridiculous!” Kurt nearly yelled, sitting up. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t wanna sing right now,” Blaine asked, and now it was his turn to sound incredulous. “Believe me, the only ones who might judge you will be my neighbors, and they’re already used to hearing me!”

Kurt shook his head, even though he was still laughing, and Blaine blinked quickly at him, as if he were a girl trying to convince someone to do something for her. 

“All right, fine!” Kurt replied. “Put your flirting eyes away, dummy.” 

He stood up from the bed and came to a halt next to Blaine so that they were both in front of the turntable. 

_“We walk together, we’re walking down the street,”_ Kurt sang, and he and Blaine took a few steps to the side, _“and I just can’t get enough… and I just can’t get enough…”_

_“Every time I think of you,”_ Blaine went on, pointing at Kurt with both index fingers, _“I know we have to meet, and I just can’t get enough… and I just can’t get enough…”_

_“It’s getting hotter, it’s a burning love,”_ they both sang. _“And I just can't seem to get enough of…”_

The song went on, and during the instrumental break, when there were no lyrics to sing, Kurt and Blaine bounced on their feet or jumped around Blaine’s room, like they were the only ones at a party and couldn’t care less about it. When the chorus came back on, they were so busy being silly that they forgot to sing along until it ended.

_“And when it rains,”_ Kurt continued, _“you’re shining down for me, and I just can’t get enough… and I just can’t get enough…”_

_“Just like a rainbow, you know you set me free,”_ Blaine went on, _“and I just can’t get enough… and I just can’t get enough…”_

_“You’re like an angel and you give me your love,”_ they both said, turning to face each other, _“and I just can’t seem to get enough of…”_

They went back to dancing and jumping around during the last few seconds of the song, and when it faded out to the lasts _I just can’t get enough_ , they halted next to each other and collapsed on each other’s arms, gasping for breath as they kept laughing. 

“See?” Blaine stuttered. “I told you it would be fun!”

“You did not!” Kurt exclaimed. 

“But it was, wasn’t it?”

Kurt took a deep breath through his nose before he was able to answer. “Yes,” he said, “yes, it was a lot of fun. I don’t think I’ve done that since I was like thirteen.” 

“Really?” Blaine was bewildered. “I do it every chance I get.”

Kurt shrugged, like it was no big deal. “A lot of things have kept me from doing it,” he said. “I guess I forgot it’s good to have fun every once in a while.”

Blaine bit his lip and looked down. “Well,” he said, glancing up at Kurt, “if you ever need to do that again, just tell me. I can even get out of the room if you feel self-conscious or anything.”

Kurt chuckled slightly. “Thank you. I might take you up on that offer someday.” 

They hadn’t realized they were still holding each other until that moment, and they pulled away, keeping their arms to themselves. Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket, and his eyes widened when he looked at the screen.

“I should get going,” he said. “I promised my dad I’d help him make dinner today.”

“Okay,” Blaine said. 

“This really _was_ fun,” Kurt insisted. “I hope we can do it again soon?”

“Sure,” Blaine answered, and he tried to smile reassuringly. By the relief in Kurt’s face, he guessed he’d been successful. “You name when.”

“Okay,” Kurt said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blaine walked him to the door, and he returned Kurt’s goodbye wave before his best friend put his helmet on and rode away on his motorcycle. 

*

The bell on top of the door to the music store rang as Kurt went inside. The cashier called a “Good afternoon!” at him, and he saluted back before he went over to browse through the stacks of CDs, arranged in alphabetical order by the name of the artist. He didn’t remember if bands’ names made up of two words were organized by the first or the second word, so he was going to check both, just in case. He searched through the D’s first.

_Speak and Spell, Some Great Reward, Music for the Masses, Violator, Ultra, Playing the Angel…_

When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he moved on to the M’s. 

_A Broken Frame, Construction Time Again, Black Celebration, Songs of Faith and Devotion, Exciter, Sounds of the Universe…_

Kurt “tsked” at himself. Where was this freaking album?

“Can I help you with anything?” The woman that had greeted him behind the cash register was next to him now, a kind smile on her face. 

“Uh, yes,” Kurt said. “I’m looking for Depeche Mode’s _Delta Machine_? Do you have it, by any chance?”

*

When Kurt had called Blaine to ask if he could come over on Saturday, Blaine had immediately said yes without wondering why Kurt couldn’t wait until Monday to see him at school. But the gleeful, “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then!” with which Kurt had finished the conversation was enough to distract him from thinking beyond the lines of, _I’m going to see Kurt tomorrow!_

And he was still stuck in the same line of thought when he opened his front door and found Kurt smiling widely at him. 

“Hey!” Kurt said, a bag hanging by a strap over his shoulder. He was holding it with both hands so tightly that his knuckles were white, like he was afraid it would vanish if he wasn’t touching it. 

“Hey,” Blaine said, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”

Kurt walked into Blaine’s house with a skip to his step, and Blaine was barely able to hold himself back from giggling at how cute his best friend looked. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you!” Kurt exclaimed as Blaine closed the door behind them. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it.”

“Well, I love surprises as it is,” Blaine said. “May I know what it is about?”

Kurt firmly shook his head. “If I tell you anything about it, you’re gonna guess immediately, and I don’t want you to have any idea of what it is until you see it.”

“Okay,” Blaine complied with a chuckle. “At least I know it’s something I can see.”

“Or,” Kurt said, opening up his bag, “maybe _that’s_ what I want you to believe. Now close your eyes.” Blaine didn’t argue. He knew Kurt would insist on it, anyway, so he simply did as he was told. “No peeking!”

“I’m not!” As if to prove his point, he covered his eyes with his hands. “See? I’m not peeking.”

“Hm. You better not.” He heard rustling, as if the surprise his best friend had for him was wrapped in gift paper and decorated with a bow on the top. “Okay, ready?”

“I’m actually really scared right now,” Blaine said, though he was smiling. “Should I be scared?”

“Not really,” Kurt answered him. “In any case, I wouldn’t _expect_ you to be. Are you ready or not?”

“Yeah, okay, I’m ready.”

“All right. One… two… aaaaaaand open them!”

Blaine uncovered and opened his eyes, and what he saw was Kurt holding… a present.

It was something small and rectangular, wrapped in bright blue gift paper, and, just as Blaine had thought, it had a small red bow taped to the middle, keeping a small card in place. 

“Happy belated birthday!” Kurt yelled in a sing-song tone, smiling widely.

“Oh…” Blaine took the present that Kurt was nearly shaking in his direction with trembling hands. He hadn’t known what to expect when Kurt had mentioned he had a surprise, but he knew this was definitely not it. The card read, _I hope you like it!_ “Oh, Kurt, you didn’t _have_ to…”

“And you haven’t even opened it yet,” Kurt said smugly, almost to himself. “Go on, open it!”

Blaine slowly tore the paper off, and he realized it was a CD case when he accidentally unwrapped the back first. His gaze stopped on the track list, and he nearly gasped out loud. When he glanced at Kurt, almost as if to ask if what he was seeing was real, Kurt nodded his head, like he was urging Blaine to tear the rest of the gift paper off. 

Once the floor around Blaine was full of bright blue wrinkled paper, he was holding in his hands the one Depeche Mode album that was missing from his collection: _Delta Machine._

“Oh, my god,” Blaine mumbled. “Oh, my god,” he said, louder. “Oh, my god, Kurt!” His gaze shifted from his best friend to the disc, back and forth, back and forth. 

“Do you like it?” Kurt asked, and now he looked slightly unsure, like he was wondering if it had been a good idea after all. Couldn’t he see how happy Blaine was?

“Are you kidding me? Kurt, I love it!” Blaine exclaimed, and he enveloped Kurt in a quick hug that his best friend, after a second of hesitation, returned. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me! Thank you, Kurt. I mean, you really didn’t have to, but thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Kurt said as they broke away from each other. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how that was the only Depeche Mode album you didn’t have, and how you were supposed to get in on your birthday but you didn’t, so. It really was nothing.”

Blaine thought his face would crack because of how much he was grinning, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m gonna have to start trying harder,” he said. 

Kurt regarded him with confusion. “At what?”

“At being your friend,” Blaine answered. “You’ve already taught me how to judo flip someone a head taller than me, and now this?”

“Well, it’s not a competition,” Kurt said, and he was blushing a little. “I don’t expect anything of you in return—”

“I know, I know, but still,” Blaine cut him off. Of course this wasn’t some deal where he had to do something for Kurt every time he did something for Blaine, but he was starting to feel guilty about Kurt going through all the trouble. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Blaine, you don’t have to make—”

“Hush! I will make it up to you!” he cried. “I may take a while, but I will.”

Kurt opened his mouth, probably to keep arguing; in the end, however, he snapped it shut and smiled. “All right,” he said. “Fine. Okay. I’m not gonna get you out of your mind, anyway.”

Blaine couldn’t help his grin. “I’m glad you’ve realized that by now. Now come on!” he said, taking Kurt by the wrist and dragging him up to his room without giving him a chance to object. “We have to listen to this baby!”

*

When Blaine’s father came home from work later that night, Kurt had already been gone a couple of hours, but Blaine was still listening to _Delta Machine_ on his computer. He was lying down on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, his eyes closed as he nodded his head along to the music, mouthing the words to his favorite songs of the album. The CD case was next to him.

“Blaine?” his father called out.

“In my room, Dad,” Blaine said. Even though his door was open, his dad knocked on it. “Hey,” Blaine greeted him, sitting up to look at his father. “How was work?”

“Eh, the usual,” his dad said, leaning against the open door. “Nothing interesting to talk about. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have some story to tell you.” He noticed the CD case by Blaine’s side for the first time. “What’s that?”

“Oh!” Blaine took it in his hand and turned it so that his father could look at it. “It’s Depeche Mode’s latest album.” He held it out to his dad, who took it and eyes it suspiciously before turning his suspicious glance to his son.

“Blaine,” he started, “I know you love them and everything, but your mother and I have told you several times—”

“No, no, no,” Blaine quickly interrupted him. “I didn’t buy it! Kurt gave it to me today as a belated birthday present.” 

All suspicion was gone from his father’s eyes. “Oh,” he said. “Very well, then.” His father was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Kurt is your friend from McKinley, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Dad,” Blaine said. 

“All right. Just wanted to make sure.” He handed his son the CD case back. “That was the only one you were missing, right?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answered, and he felt himself beginning to smile again. He remembered the events of the day, how he and Kurt had jumped around his room as he blasted the album on the computer, how hard Kurt had laughed when Blaine jumped from his bed, accidentally slipped when he landed, and fell headfirst to the ground. He’d felt so bummed when his best friend announced he had to go back home. 

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Blaine?”

Blaine looked up at his father. 

“What?”

“You’ve been staring into space for a while now,” his dad replied, and now Blaine felt himself blush. He simply hoped it wasn’t too visible. “I asked if that lovesick smile on your face was because of the CD or because of who’d given it to you.”

The only response Blaine had for that was to stammer out an indignant, “DAD!” He hugged the pillow tighter to his chest and shifted his gaze to the ground, to his feet, to his father’s feet, anywhere but his dad’s eyes. “You’re starting to sound like Cooper.” He’d had crushes on the past, and his older brother had always taken the chance to tease him about them. He often used similar words to the ones his dad had. 

Blaine felt the bed dip and saw, out of the corner of his eyes, his father sitting on the edge.

“Well, he had to get it out of someone,” said his dad. 

Neither of them said anything for a while, and Blaine knew why his old man was keeping quiet, at least. It was some sort of psychological trick his parents had always used on both Cooper of him, ever since they were little. When they wanted to get more out of their children, they wouldn’t pressure them to say anything else, but the silence between them was so unbearable that Blaine and Cooper would continue talking. 

Blaine wasn’t going to fall for that. He wasn’t. He wouldn’t let the silence become uncomfortable. He wasn’t a child anymore, damn it!

He wasn’t going to cave in. Nope. Not at all. Not even if they had to stay in silence for…

“I don’t think I’m in love,” Blaine said. “I just know I really like him, but I don’t know if it’s just because he’s my best friend or because I have a crush on him or what.”

Well. So much for not caving in. 

His father looked down at the ground, and Blaine realized that maybe he hadn’t wanted for his son to talk to him about this. Maybe he simply hadn’t known what to make of the situation. He had only come out to his mom and dad a year ago, how could he expect him to suddenly give him advice about this?

“We don’t need to have this conversation,” Blaine quickly added. “Not if you—”

“Nonsense,” his dad said, waving a hand in the air before looking straight at him. “You’re my son, and nothing is going to change that. If this were about a girl, I’d be ready to have this conversation with you. It being about a boy is no different.”

Blaine’s throat went dry, and he licked his lips and swallowed. He felt tears on the back of his eyes and wiped an arm across his face to keep his composure. He knew his father was more accepting of him than his mother, but he hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed at hearing his dad say something like that. He’d made more progress than he had thought. 

“It’s true that feelings are complicated,” his dad went on. “Most of the time, it’s hard to know exactly what we’re feeling, and it’s even harder to explain it to someone else.”

Blaine inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. “I just don’t know what to do,” he said. “I really do like him, but I don’t know if he likes me in the same way.”

“Well,” his father said, and by his tone, Blaine wasn’t sure he wanted to listen to the rest of his sentence. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Yeah. That was exactly what he’d been afraid to hear.

*

Kurt hadn’t wanted to leave Blaine’s house on Saturday. If they had been little kids, he would’ve begged to be allowed to spend the night, just so that his time with Blaine wouldn’t be shortened. He’d never had so much fun with anyone before, and he liked being with Blaine. He liked being Blaine’s friend; the guy was so honest and thankful about everything, like he wanted to make every single day of his life count. Kurt hadn’t known before Blaine that he could make every day count without closing himself off to the world. 

So what if Kurt maybe, _maybe_ , harbored a crush for his best friend? People had crushes on their friends all the time. He had crushed on friends of his before, and friends of his had also had crushes on him. They didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean he and Blaine were going to date or become a couple or anything of the sort. 

“We should have another ‘dance party’ of yours soon,” he told Blaine when they saw each other on Monday morning, on the school parking lot. “Or they could become some sort of stress-reliever, you know? A therapeutic solution to exams and papers and homework. At least it would keep us from taking it out on other students.”

Blaine laughed at his words. “Count on that,” he said. “Unless I tell you otherwise, my room is always open for a dance party.”

Then Blaine had seemed to remember something, because he simply murmured that he would catch Kurt later before nearly sprinting into the school. It hadn’t seemed all that strange to Kurt—perhaps the teacher of his first class had threatened to make an exam if they weren’t on time—so he didn’t think much of it. 

But over the next few days, Blaine kept coming up with excuses not to walk Kurt to his classroom. Kurt tried to convince himself that he was being paranoid, but he couldn’t help feeling that Blaine was avoiding him. The ongoing flirting between them had never been a problem… could it be that it was starting to be a problem now?

On Friday morning, Kurt forgot all about being paranoid. Blaine had arrived earlier than him, and he was waiting for Kurt in the parking lot, leaning back against his motorcycle with his hands on the pockets of his leather jacket. He took his helmet and hung the strap through his arm, just like Kurt did with his own helmet. 

“Hey, stranger,” Kurt greeted him, unable to help himself. 

Blaine smiled sheepishly. “Sorry that I’ve been kind of dumping you lately, I’ve sort of had a lot to think about,” he said. 

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked. “Do you need any help with anything?” He had been Blaine’s friend long enough by now to know that he wouldn’t ask for help unless it was offered to him. 

“No, no,” Blaine said, almost in a hurry. “No, don’t worry, everything’s fine.” Then he bit his lower lip. “Okay, I might need help with something.”

Uh-huh. Kurt knew it. “Yeah?”

“I…” Blaine ran a hand through his hair and dropped it to the side. He looked down and wouldn’t meet Kurt’s eyes, so Kurt nudged his leg with his foot. His best friend let out a chuckle. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Blaine, I have seen you jumping from your bed, slipping, and falling headfirst to the ground. I think it’s a little too late to be embarrassed around me.”

Blaine threw his head back, but Kurt noticed he was smiling. “All right, point taken.” He dropped his head so that he could look right at Kurt. “I… I kind of wanna ask someone out.”

Kurt didn’t really know what he’d been expecting Blaine to ask him. He just knew that wasn’t it. 

“Oh?” He’d meant for that to come out as a simple statement, as an _oh, sure, I’ve asked people out before, I can totally help you with that._ Jesus, Kurt, you’re not his mother, Kurt thought, feeling the urge to kick himself. _Being best friends with him doesn’t entitle you to knowing every single detail of his life._

If anything, he was going to be happy for Blaine. If a friend of yours liked someone and wanted to ask them out, you did anything to help them, even if you yourself had a crush on your friend. And that was what Kurt was going to do. After all, he’d been the one to offer Blaine help, and he was going to stay true to his word. 

Besides, the crush Kurt had on Blaine was nothing more than that. It wasn’t going to make Kurt fall in love with Blaine. He probably felt this way because Blaine had been the only boy to treat him decently since Kurt was a kid, maybe even before then. That was it. It meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was going to help his best friend ask the person he liked out on a date and he was going to feel happy for him. Because his crush was just that and it didn’t mean anything. At all. 

That was the mantra Kurt kept repeating to himself all morning. 

*

Blaine couldn’t help the incessant tapping of his foot against the floor as he stared at the clock throughout his classes. On one hand, he was glad that he had more time to think this through. On the other hand, he just wanted to get this over with. Well, not precisely over with, but he already wanted it out in the open. He wanted Kurt to know it. He wanted the entire school to know it, he wanted the freaking state, the country, the fucking world to know it. He felt like he could stand up on his desk and scream it, just so that he could have a sense of what it would feel when he told Kurt. 

But that would ruin the entire effect of surprise he had waiting on his sleeve.

Besides, the teachers already kept an eye on him because of his motorcycle helmet and his leather jacket, regardless of his slightly-above-the-average performance in all of his classes (except Spanish, but he was slowly getting there!). Standing up and screaming in the middle of Home Economics would only give them more to judge about him.

He and Kurt had classes on different hallways, so Blaine had to wait until lunch to talk to him again. He didn’t know if he was thankful that the minutes seemed to be going so slowly or if he was dreading whoever had had the idea to measure time in the first place. 

Instead of overthinking about how his next conversation with his best friend would go, Blaine decided he should at least try to pay attention to what his teachers were saying. If anything, he wasn’t going to fall back on all the progress he’d made on Spanish. When that was over (and thank whatever god existed that they’d passed the verbs already), there was only one more class that Blaine had to sit through, and he guessed that zooming out of Geometry for a second wouldn’t affect his overall understanding of the subject. 

What he needed now was to find out exactly what he was going to say so that he didn’t look like a fool in front of Kurt. 

Forty-five minutes to go.

_So, this person I want to ask out… he’s… I haven’t known him for long…_

Forty minutes to go.

_I’ve never felt as close to anyone as I have to him…_

Thirty-two minutes.

_It’s kind of crazy, you know? Has that ever happened to you? No, wait, don’t ask him that, you idiot!_

Twenty-three.

_And maybe it’s just a crush, maybe it will stay like this, but I don’t think it will, I think it can become something so much bigger than what I have with him now, you know?_

Eighteen.

_Should I really be confusing him like that? Oh, I just hope Kurt doesn’t hit me first when I tell him…_

Eleven.

_Maybe I should try listening to some music so that I can clear my head. My thoughts have always been clearer when I’m not thinking too hard. I just need to discreetly put in one of my ear buds… why the fuck are they in a knot?! What alternate universe do they go to when I put them in the pocket of my pants?!_

Six.

_Stop looking at the clock, Blaine. STOP. LOOKING. AT IT. Yes, the clock on your phone counts, put that thing away._

Four.

_Oh, god, oh, god, oh, GOD. I should really consider the music thing. But what if I listen to a song that’s more than four minutes long and I don’t hear the bell?_

Three.

_Okay, okay, calm down. BREATHE, BLAINE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. It’s gonna be fine. He’s your best friend. Hopefully, he’ll be happy. And excited. Hopefully he won’t be upset that you surprised him like this. OH GOD._

Two.

_JESUS CHRIST. I should count down from a hundred and twenty. 119… 118… 117… no, wait, that’s just gonna make it worse._

One.

Blaine was drumming his fingers on his desk in such a rapid beat that a couple of classmates turned to look at him. He caught one or two of them narrowing their eyes in thought, as if they imagined he was drumming a song and were wondering what it was. Blaine felt like he was in that stupid, sappy, Disney Channel teen movie, the one where all of the characters were staring at the clock going, “Summer, summer, summer, summer…” Except that in his head, it was something more along the lines of, _Nausea, excitement, hope, nausea, excitement, hope…_

The bell finally rang, and Blaine tossed his things into his bag and ran out of the classroom, praying that the teacher didn’t have the ridiculous idea to give them homework that he would, later, have to ask a classmate for.

He arrived to the cafeteria before most students, and he sat on the table he and Kurt had kind of claimed as their own to wait for his best friend. Glancing down at his hands, held together in front of him, he realized he still had no idea of how he was going to break this to Kurt. Everything he’d been thinking for the past forty-five minutes had sounded like crap in his head, and he didn’t have any desire to know how it sounded once it was said out loud. 

The kids started to fill the cafeteria, but there was still no sign of Kurt. Oh, god. Had he figured out who Blaine wanted to ask out and decided not to be a part of it? Had he decided he didn’t want to be friends with Blaine anymore? Had he thought it was better to go back to being by himself all the time?

Only when Kurt walked inside the cafeteria, clutching his bag the same way he’d done at Blaine’s house on Saturday, did Blaine feel like he could breathe again. And then he felt like he was choking again, he was so nervous. If he could’ve ripped out his heart only to yell at it to stop being an asshole, he would’ve done so. Kurt saw him and waved with his hand, smiling happily, and Blaine’s heart resumed its normal beating, allowing him to take deep breaths to calm down his nerves. 

“Hey,” Kurt saluted him the second he sat down in front of Blaine. 

“Hey,” Blaine said back. “How was your morning?”

“Boring,” Kurt said, crossing his arms and leaning them on the table. “Like, really boring. I don’t know how I managed to stay awake during all of that. If you asked me to tell you what I saw in each of my classes, I—”

“Wanna go on a date with me?”

Blaine hoped he had only thought that. Blaine wished he had only thought that, that he hadn’t said that…

“What?” Kurt asked, his eyes wider than Blaine had ever seen them, blinking slowly.

… out loud. 

Blaine covered his face with his hands and groaned. “God, that was so _not_ how I had planned this out.”

How could he have just blurted out the words like that? In the middle of the school cafeteria? Nobody seemed to be paying them any attention—they had probably not even heard—but that didn’t excuse him! What was wrong with him? What about his three classes of not knowing what he was going to do or say because he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself? He was never going to listen to his father again. Ever. He was going to trust the internet from now on. 

“I thought…” He looked through his fingers at Kurt, who was now staring at the space between them. He didn’t look upset. Or happy. Or furious. He didn’t look… anything. “This morning… you said…”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Blaine said, his words muffled by his hands. “I wanted to make you believe I was asking someone else out, and then I was gonna ask you out, but I was gonna say this really cheesy speech and maybe it’s better that I just said it, but I wanted to be more romantic than that. Seriously. I swear.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, still speaking in that not-letting-any-emotion-through tone, and it was starting to make Blaine incredibly nervous. “That… explains a few things, I guess.”

Blaine uncovered his face. 

“I thought it was kind of weird that you wanted to ask someone out,” Kurt continued, “and you were asking me advice when you’d never told me about them before.”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, letting his hands drop to the table again. “That was poor thinking on my part.”

“A little, yeah,” said Kurt, but the side of his mouth was starting to turn up, so Blaine knew he was holding back a smile. 

“My question still stands, though,” he said, barely holding himself back from winking. Maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate time for that. 

Kurt nodded his head, and he leaned back on his chair, blowing air out of his mouth. “I’m trying to let it all sink in first,” he said. Then he looked up at Blaine, and the way his mouth was just the slightest bit open and the corners of his lips were trembling made Blaine bite his lip to stop himself from blurting out more stupidities. “I mean…” Kurt let out an airless chuckle, like he wanted to laugh but didn’t know how. “You just asked me out.”

“I did.”

“In the middle of the school cafeteria. Not that the place particularly matters or anything, but even so.”

“Yep.”

“Do you like me?”

“Depends on what the word means to you,” Blaine answered, because that was exactly the debate he’d had with his father yesterday. “I’ve liked you since the day we met. You were so easy to talk to, and it was like I was seeing an old friend again after not having talked to him in years. You know, those people who can stop talking for a really long time, and when they pick up communication again, it’s like they’ve been chatting every day?”

Kurt nodded, but he didn’t add anything else. Maybe he was pulling on him the same trick his parents had when he was little; he was just listening to anything Blaine had to say. 

“I’ve liked you _liked_ you, for lack of a better word for now,” he went on, and Kurt snickered, “probably since the day after we met. After we got into that fight with those bullies. They walked away, and you were laughing, and I thought that you looked wonderful. That you sounded wonderful.” 

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest, though it looked more like he was hugging himself instead of closing off the conversation. 

“You’ve liked me for that long?”

“I didn’t know at first,” Blaine admitted, and just as he was saying the words, he realized they were true. Even yesterday, he hadn’t been sure. Now he was. “I thought I was just happy to have a friend like you. And we spent time together, and then you got me the Depeche Mode CD, and my dad told me it was a very familiar pattern and I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about and he told me to cut the crap…”

This time Kurt did laugh, bringing his palm up to his forehead. “I never thought of that.” He let his hand drop to the table, and he slowly slid it closer to Blaine’s, like he wanted to hold it in his own but was afraid Blaine wouldn’t want that. 

(He totally would.)

“I like you too, you know,” Kurt said, and Blaine’s heart started being an asshole again, making him feel warmth spreading throughout his chest and all that sappy, corny flick-chick stuff he’d pretended to hate for years because he thought his parents wouldn’t approve of his liking it. 

“Yeah?” Blaine asked, and he shortened the distance between their hands, though he didn’t close it yet. 

“Yeah,” Kurt replied, smiling softly, his mouth closed and one side of his mouth curled up. “I…” He scoffed. “I actually didn’t feel that compelled to help you ask someone else out when you asked me this morning.”

Blaine chuckled, throwing his head back before he dropped it, looking at their fingers about to touch on the table. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Do you think I will?”

“No,” Blaine chuckled once more. “I don’t think so.”

“There you go.”

They were both looking at their hands now, slowly moving them closer until their fingertips were touching. 

“So,” Blaine started. “Do you wanna go out with me tomorrow?”

He raised his gaze just in time to see Kurt do the same, and his eyes seemed to have this joyful gleam to them that made them stand out all the brighter. 

“What do you think?”

*

Kurt was standing in front of the mirror of his room. He had a different outfit on a hanger in each hand, and he was placing them in front of his reflection, first one and then the other one, first one and then the other one. When he wasn’t satisfied with either look, he threw them to the bed, among around half of his clothes, and took two more outfits, repeating the process of seeing how he would look with each of them. 

He wanted to look amazing for this date, but he was also taking into consideration the fact that Blaine might pick him up on his motorcycle. 

He had a date. 

He had a date with Blaine.

Blaine was going to come pick him up at his house in half an hour and then they were going to go out. 

That train of thought made him start giggling for the fifth time in the past hour, and he was too happy, too excited, too freaking nervous to care about how ridiculous he might look. Well, he _did_ care about what outfit to choose so that he would look decent, at least, and he usually thought he looked decent enough, but now he couldn’t find anything that made him look half as amazing as he always felt, _why was this so freaking hard?_

His father, Burt, had been walking by his room, stopping at his door every few minutes, but he still hadn’t said a word to him. 

_If he’s pulling this overprotective dad stunt on me,_ Kurt thought, _at least he should try to help me._

The next time his dad came to a halt on the other side of his door, Kurt turned to him with his hands on his hips. 

“I can’t find anything I like.”

His father hadn’t been prepared to be confronted, so he did this kind of double-take when his son spoke, as if he wasn’t sure he was the one being talked to. Burt looked at the clothes on Kurt’s bed.

“Have you tried the other half of your closet?”

“ _Dad,_ ” Kurt said. “I’m serious!”

His dad came into his room, and he stood next to the mirror with him. “Why don’t you just dress like you’d dress on a school day?”

“Because this isn’t a school day,” Kurt answered, and he tried not to sound condescending about it. By the eye-roll he saw Burt make on their reflection, he realized he wasn’t successful. “This is a date.”

“I realize it,” his father said. “But it’s the same person you’ve seen every day at school, it’s the same person you’ve been spending time with after school… how does a date make it different?”

Kurt hadn’t really thought about it that way. Sure, this was a bigger deal than just seeing Blaine at school, but maybe his father had a point. He and Kurt saw each other almost every single day. Now they were going to see each other again, but it was a slightly different situation; they were going to be together in an open space instead of inside Blaine’s room. And, yeah, oaky, maybe now they could hold hands, and maybe if Kurt felt like pressing a kiss to Blaine’s cheek—because he had felt like it before, okay? He’d simply always forced himself not to—now he could actually do it. 

“I guess,” he finally said. 

“You’re overthinking all of this,” said Burt. “That’s why you can’t find anything you like. Just don’t worry about it. Pick whatever outfit you would wear any other day, he’s still gonna like you.”

The blush that spread over Kurt’s cheeks was enough to make his father smile smugly at him, like he knew from the moment the conversation began that it was going to end this way. 

“Thanks, Dad,” Kurt said, and he stepped away from the mirror to look at all the clothes he’d taken out of his wardrobe. His father patted him in the shoulder and left his room. Kurt thought that it had to be hard on him, watching his son go out on a date with a boy he liked—and not necessarily because he was going out with a boy, but because he was going out on a date. Kurt had never gone out on a date before. He had liked boys before, of course, but he had almost never told Burt about any of them. 

Blaine was, pretty much, the first true exception. And Kurt hadn’t even talked about him as a boy he liked at first, it was simply this boy he had met that he was now best friends with. He _had_ mentioned he might have a little crush on him, but it was only yesterday—when he’d come home basically yelling, “Remember Blaine, my best friend, well, he asked me out on a date and I said yes and now I’m kind of freaking out _help me not freak out_ ”—that he’d started gushing about how much he actually liked Blaine and how happy he was about this.

It couldn’t be easy on any parent to watch their child go out on their first date, but he was grateful that his father was being so calm about this. Well, that he was pretending to be, at least. 

Once he had decided on wearing a shirt that had been white once but was starting to gray, and one of his favorite pair of jeans (and he actually looked pretty good, if he had to say so himself) and ready to go, he received a text message from Blaine. 

_Blaine  
I’m right outside your place. I think. Should I wait here or go knock at your door? Which one is more chivalrous?_

Kurt smiled to himself as he typed a reply.

_Kurt  
I’ll be right outside. :)_

He grabbed a jacket, just for good measure, went downstairs to the living room, and found his father sitting on the couch, pretending to read a newspaper. 

“I’m going out now,” he said, and Burt lifted his eyes from the paper in front of him. 

“He’s not gonna come in?”

“I think it’d be better if I wait till the second or third date to bring him in,” Kurt answered, and he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. 

“Okay,” Burt said, returning to his reading. “Have fun.” Kurt noticed how he was focusing on a small article that couldn’t possibly have taken him so long to read, and he shook his head to himself. 

“Love you, Dad,” he said, hugging his father as best as he could, given that he was standing up and his dad was sitting down. Burt placed a hand on top of Kurt’s arms. “I’ll be back later,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to his dad’s temple before he made his way to the door. He grabbed his helmet from its hook on the wall, grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door, and stepped outside his house.

Blaine had parked his motorcycle across the street, and he was leaning back against it. Kurt noticed that there was a picnic basket attached to the front of the bike. Blaine was wearing jeans and a green shirt underneath his black jacket, and he was glancing from side to side. When he heard the door close behind Kurt, he looked in his direction, and the moment their eyes met, he grinned widely. Kurt had never noticed how his eyes scrunched when he grinned. He guessed that there would be a lot more things he would start noticing about Blaine. 

“Hey,” Blaine said, even though Kurt was still across the street. Kurt smiled and made his way to Blaine, trying not to skip as he went along. 

“Hey,” he said when he was standing in front of Blaine.

“Hi,” Blaine said again, and he seemed to be swaying on his toes, even though he was still leaning against his vehicle. 

“Hi,” Kurt said back, unable to help himself. 

“You look really good,” Blaine murmured, looking down at the ground for a second, as if he were embarrassed. “I mean, you always look good, but now I can actually say it without sounding creepy.”

Kurt chuckled, and he was pretty sure that he was blushing again. “Thanks,” he said. “And, just for the record, I’d never think you were creepy. Regardless of what you said.”

Blaine let out a puff of air, and he pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead with his arm. “Phew,” he said, laughing a little. “Thank goodness. I didn’t want to start this on the wrong foot. I’m just glad I didn’t.”

He extended his arm to show his motorcycle. 

“Shall we?”

*

Blaine had told Kurt to close his eyes a few minutes before he stopped the motorcycle. “I mean, you’re eventually gonna see it, but I just want you to be surprised by it first.” Kurt had absolutely no idea of what Blaine meant by _it_ , but of Blaine wanted to use it to surprise him, he was sure he would love it. 

When Blaine turned off the engine, he got off the motorcycle and then grabbed Kurt’s arms, still telling him to keep his eyes closed. “I got you,” he said, and he tightened his grip on Kurt’s arms. 

Kurt hoped that the heat he was feeling wasn’t showing on his face with a stupid blush over his pale complexion. “Okay,” he said, and allowed Blaine to help him off the bike. 

“You good?” Blaine asked him as he found his footing.

“Yeah, thanks.” It was soft ground, of that, he was sure, so it wasn’t concrete. Was it dirt? Grass? He could also hear waves crashing against rocks, or shore, or whatever waves usually crashed against. Where in the world were they? Blaine started to tug on his arms, dragging him along with short steps. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Just a second,” Blaine said, guiding him to take three other steps until he came to a halt. “Okay. Ready?”

“I’ve been ready for the past ten minutes, Blaine,” Kurt said, his words interrupted by chuckles. 

He could almost hear the smile in Blaine’s voice. “Okay.” He let go of Kurt’s arms and stood behind him to grab his shoulders, and Kurt felt almost strange, not having Blaine to hold on to in front of him. “You can open your eyes now.”

And so Kurt did.

And the sight before him took his breath away. 

The first word Kurt thought was _meadow_ , even though this probably wasn’t it. It looked like a piece of forest: there were a lot of trees, though most of them didn’t have any leaves anymore. There was a bench overlooking what looked like the edge of this “meadow”, and Kurt could see water in front of them. He had never been particularly good at remembering the names or locations of big bodies of water, so he had absolutely no idea of where this was. Behind the bench, Blaine had already put a blanket and the picnic basket, and he had emptied its contents and placed them all on the blanket.

Kurt was incredibly glad that Blaine had asked him to keep his eyes closed.

“Do you like it?” Blaine asked. Kurt couldn’t even think of what to say. This was a gorgeous place, and everything Blaine had made to make it even better was… 

“You’re amazing,” Kurt said, because those were the only words his mind could put in a coherent sentence. “This is all amazing.”

He was only brought out of his shock by Blaine’s fingers interlacing with his. He turned to look at him, and he saw that Blaine was grinning widely again, except that now his eyes seemed to sparkle, like being in this place with Kurt was the best situation the world could possibly offer him. 

“I’m really happy that you like it,” Blaine said. “I found this place when I first got my bike. I used to come here all the time; it was the only place where I could be by myself, you know? It’s not like I want to be alone all the time, but sometimes that was exactly what I needed.” Then he turned to face Kurt, and he took his other hand. “However, I think it’s a lot better if I’m here with you.”

“You know,” Kurt said, trying to put into words everything he was feeling; all his nervousness had gone away, and now it had been replaced by wonder and hope and excitement and happiness and possibly a lot of other emotions he couldn’t identify at the moment. “I thought that you asking if you should come to my door was the silliest thing you could have ever said. This? All of this?” He looked around, trying to signal the meadow around without letting go of Blaine’s hands. “This surpasses it by a long shot. In the best of ways.”

Blaine smiled at him like he wanted to give Kurt so much more than this if this made him feel like that. 

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Kurt asked, and he tugged Blaine towards the picnic.

They ate peacefully, chatting about nothing special, laughing when the other one told a funny anecdote or an embarrassing situation. Sometimes they held hands. Sometimes Blaine would reach out for Kurt’s hand, and Kurt would beat him to it and play with Blaine’s fingers. Sometimes Kurt would mention a song he liked, and if Blaine had it on his phone, he would take it out and they would both listen to it through his earbuds. Sometimes they would simply look over at the water and listen to the waves, calm and uneventful. 

Then Blaine took off his jacket, and Kurt saw that he had a tattoo on his arm. He hadn’t ever seen Blaine without his jacket. 

“What’s that?” Kurt asked, because he couldn’t see the tattoo exactly. Blaine moved his arm so that it was closer to Kurt; the tattoo was a dandelion starting to dissipate in the air, and around the dandelion was a line that read, _and it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off._

“It’s a line from _Shake It Off_ , by Florence and the Machine,” Blaine said. 

“It looks really great,” Kurt said, softly reaching out to touch the marks on Blaine’s arm. “Does the dandelion mean anything?”

“Not really,” Blaine admitted with a shrug. “I knew I wanted the line around something, but I didn’t know what. My brother suggested a dandelion, though he meant it as a joke. I ended up really liking the idea, so that’s what I went with. What about you, Kurt?” he asked, and when Kurt shifted his eyes from the tattoo to Blaine’s face, he saw a sort of boldness in his eyes that took him back to the day they’d met—to the moment Blaine had held out his hand and asked for his phone to put his number in. 

“What about me?”

“Do you have any cool tattoos you feel like showing off?”

Kurt had one, actually. He would ask Blaine how he’d gotten his later, but the one on his arm, a little below the area of his shoulder, was a birthday gift from Burt. He’d asked for years to have a tattoo, and after he’d gotten his bike, he didn’t think his dad would allow him to do it. But last year, he’d been surprised when Burt had told him, “If you know what you want and where you want it, we’ll go tomorrow.”

He lifted the sleeve of his shirt so that Blaine could see it: it was a silhouetted flock of birds, and there was one on a branch just above his favorite line from Wicked’s _Defying Gravity._

_I’m through accepting limits,  
‘cause someone says they’re so._

“Oh, I love this musical,” Blaine said, and Kurt raised his head to look at him. He was staring in awe at the tattoo, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “And the birds are an amazing detail.” He put his own arm next to Kurt’s, and it almost looked like both pictures matched, somehow; as though they’d been planning to get similar tattoos that represented the same idea.

“I stopped caring about what the world might want from me,” Kurt said. 

Blaine only lifted his gaze. “One should really shake off the expectations other people might have on them, huh.”

It hadn’t sounded like a question, but Kurt still nodded. 

They simply stared at each other for a while, like everything they wanted to say, every word that might pass between them, could be understood through their eyes. In that moment, in Kurt’s mind, this thing he felt for Blaine wasn’t a mere crush anymore. “Like” was such a little word, and now it felt like child’s play, like a fleeting sentiment that wouldn’t last for another hour.  
In that moment, Kurt could see himself with Blaine—exactly as they were right now—in ten years. In fifteen. In thirty. Any time in the future he imagined, he saw it just as he was seeing the present. 

“I’ve never heard that Florence and the Machine song,” he said suddenly, and Blaine blinked twice, as if he’d been somewhere far away, like Kurt had been. 

“Really?” Blaine asked. “I think it’s one of their greatest. Here.” He handed Kurt one of his earbuds, he took out his phone, browsed through his music library for the song, and pressed on the title with his thumb. 

With his other hand, he entwined his fingers with Kurt’s. 

_Regrets collect like old friends,_  
Here to relive your darkest moments,  
I can see no way, I can see no way,  
And all of the ghouls come out to play… 

They didn’t say any word while they listened to the song. At one point, Kurt leaned his head on Blaine’s shoulder as they sat close together, and Blaine leaned his head on top of Kurt’s. And it should have been strange, because Kurt was taller, but it wasn’t. 

_And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind,_  
I can never leave the past behind,  
I can see no way, I can see no way,  
I’m always dragging that horse around… 

Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt’s hand. 

_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, oh, whoa,  
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, oh, whoa…_

Kurt closed his eyes, and he brought his other hand to encircle their joined ones. 

_And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back,  
So shake him off, oh, whoa…_


End file.
